Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 8

waste my heart on sorrow. I think he even told you that when Paul dumped you."
    Marcus patted his shoulder. "Well, then, let's go get some ribs. In honor of your fa'tha."
    Peter grinned then. "Pa woulda liked that. Let me call Tater and Rufus, and we can pick them up on the way."
    ****
    Hinata gazed around the condo his mother had decorated for him. The rooms echoed with the sound of hushed footsteps from every room but the living room. The thick white carpet covering the floor of that room ensured Hinata would never use the room. How could he possibly have Caroline or Tabitha over for a spa day in the frighteningly sterile room? The first time one of them got the giggles, there'd be nail polish in the carpet.
    The rest of the apartment was all hard angles, glass and black granite. The overall effect took his breath away. Unfortunately, once his air was stolen the combined grandeur of the place managed to keep his chest crushed flat, unable to pull in a single molecule of oxygen. Hinata drew shallow breaths, and counted the months until he would be free of the place.
    The rooms framed his mother admirably as she strode from one to another. With her hair pulled severely back in a tight bun at the base of her neck, and her immaculate charcoal grey business suit, she fit here. Hinata did not. He longed of one of the squashy purple and green pillows he'd found at the flea market with Caroline. He yearned for a bright yellow shawl to throw over the back of the pure white couch, and silly green and orange statuary to arrange on the black granite counters. Everything about the place seemed so very implacable, he found himself glancing repeatedly at his arms, expecting to find them covered in bruises.
    The only space where he felt remotely comfortable was up in the roof-garden. His father and Andre had put the little oasis together for him, after his mother finished decorating. She sniffed at the tiny green space, but condescended to allow for its existence when Hinata's father reminded her of the doctor's urging Hinata to spend some time each day outdoors to boost his low vitamin D levels. She consigned the area to the same relevance and functionality as a bathroom, and declared the dwelling fit for her son to live in while he studied for his business degree. The school, the condo, and even the clothes she sent along with him were all carefully selected in preparation for his eventual assumption of the role of junior partner to his brother, who would head the company after her husband retired. She did not officially run any part of Kenkyusha Electronics, or any of their subsidiary companies. Her husband, as the male head of their family here in America, ran all the business ventures based in the US, Canada, Mexico, and South and Central America. Her father ran everything else, and had made very clear to his daughter where her duty lay. She was to prepare his grandsons to take over from him.
    She smiled thinly at Hinata on the day she dropped him off. The appearance of a single strand of silver in her black hair caught his attention, and he nearly missed her firmly spoken words. "You will bring honor to the family by finishing in three years, Hinata."
    Hinata lowered his head. "Hai, Mother. May I be allowed to have time to exercise each day?" He observed the backs of his hands carefully, that his mother might not see the hope burning brightly in his eyes.
    She nodded. "Yes, Hinata. A sound body promotes a sound mind. Take time to exercise your body."
    Hinata held his breath for the span of ten heartbeats, waiting for his mother to specify what form his exercise should take. No further sounds came from her, and finally he glanced up into her expectant silence.
    "Your father will miss you, Hinata. Write to him every week." Hinata swallowed thickly. His mother gazed out the floor to ceiling windows over the city skyline. "Write to your sisters weekly also. Your eldest brother you may write once a month, to maintain a proper fraternal closeness. This will be important when you and he take over the company from my father. You may write to our middle son as often as you wish to as he has no other obligations, but not less than once a month."
    Hinata studied the backs of his hands again. They rested on the edge of the breakfast bar, and looked small and pale against the wide expanse of black granite. His mother walked with quietly decisive steps to the door. "I will send Andre back to you. He will stay in the chauffeur's quarters